Clearing my throat, I answer him, “I believe they were on an intel only mission. Harmony and Harlow need to have guards on them at all times. They’re trying to keep us preoccupied with this little game of cat and mouse. If we’re busy attempting to locate them and figure out their next move, our focus isn’t on protecting our property—the women. This is a divide and conquer mission if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Makes sense,” Bane speaks up. “Harlow is my one true weakness. If something was to happen to her, I’d lose my fucking mind.”
“And if Harmony disappears again, it would affect more than one of us this time,” Rogue’s fury is ever present in his voice. Nodding my head in agreement, he slams his fist on the table and stands up so quickly that his chair flies back into the wall. “We need to be on the offense instead of defense. Edge, take Mercenary to check on our supplies. Make sure we are stocked up on ammo and weapons. Show Merc the underground escape route, hidden rooms and storage spaces. Leave and do this now while the rest of us strategize and come up with a plan of attack. We’ll fill you in.” The look he gives us leaves little room for argument. Edge holds his hand out and I watch the exchange as Rogue reaches around his neck and removes a necklace containing a solitary key. Without another word said, he turns around and walks out the door. I trail after Edge as he sprints down the hallway toward the back of the club.
“We have underground rooms and tunnels here?” I question in astonishment. This is something you wouldn’t think of or believe anyone includes in their blueprints while designing the construction of their home or offices. But, given this club’s history, I can see why they deemed such things necessary.
Walking down the hall, Edge begins to explain, “After the first time Marx betrayed us, we had them included in the build since the destruction he rained down upon us was so detrimental. We lost fathers, mothers, and brothers. The list of all our losses is too long to get into right now.” I have to mentally remind myself that the infamous Marx is known to me as Marcum. “We’ll check supplies first then I’ll show you each of the hidden rooms. They all have a specific reason and purpose. Usually only patched-in brothers are shown these, but you’ve shown your loyalty to the MC since you’ve been here. Plus, I think Rogue wants you in the know because of Harmony. Let’s face it. We’d all protect her with our own life, but nobody’s instinct to protect his woman is stronger than her man’s. Especially when that woman is carrying his own flesh and blood within her.” His words make my chest swell in pride. It’s all true, plus, I’ve busted my ass and been privy to some pretty disgusting displays. So knowing that it’s being noticed gives me another sense of purpose in this club.
When we make it to the end of the hallway, he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the door. This room has always been off limits to non-patched members, and I’m about to find out why. When the door opens, motion lights turn on illuminating the once pitch-black space. Edge leads me down a set of steps and when we make it to the landing, he goes to a safe on the wall and punches in a set of codes and pulls out a ledger and clipboard. “The first room I’m going to show you contains all of our weapons.” He leads me to the right and moves a bookshelf that looks like it was built into the wall. He puts in another set of codes that are on a panel next to the hidden door. “Can’t be too careful,” he says to me as we walk through. He claps his hands together and the hilarity of them using ‘the clapper’ doesn’t get expressed when my eyes land on the inventory.
“Wow,” I whistle out while scanning the room’s contents. Next to Harmony, this is my wet dream.
“It’s impressive,” he agrees. He pulls out the clipboard that has a spreadsheet clipped on it. We begin a tedious, yet time efficient task of matching up the weapons with the numbers. Once the weapons are matched up with the spreadsheet, we begin to take stock of the ammunition. This takes a little longer to process. We not only have to match it to inventory, but make sure there's enough to fill each gun five times over. “I think we’re good here. Now I need to show you the underground tunnels and hiding spaces.” We put everything in its proper location and turn off the lights. After doing that we make sure the doors are secure and lock everything back up.
When we get to the underground tunnels, I’m surprised to learn that once one enters, it’s a three-quarter of a mile hike to freedom. “So basically, once this door is sealed, you’re fucked until you reach the exit? Also, why is this particular escape route needed?” My curiosity has gotten the best of me.
“Rogue wanted to cover every base possible. This was a last-minute add-on in case we ever found ourselves trapped in the clubhouse and it caught fire,” he answers. “And yes, it’s a bit of a walk, but when a life, or lives are on the line, that shit won’t matter.”
Pointing to the key he pulls out on the necklace Rogue was wearing, I ask, “I take it Rogue’s the only one with a key then?” He looks at me and nods before opening the door. After opening the door, he says, “Have a look.” Flipping a light switch to the right of him the narrow tunnel lights up. There's a set of steep stairs leading downward. “Impressive. So, once in here, your ass isn’t coming back through this door on this side until you’ve walked the long green mile?”
“You got it,” he answers, before turning the light off and closing the door. “We’ve all got our personal weapons on our person, but now you know where to come to when and if shit hits the fan.”
His final sentence is abruptly followed by the sound of an explosion and we both duck reflexively. “Harmony!” I shout as I begin to run to her aid.
12
Mercenary
“We’ve been breached! We’re under attack!” Edge hollers out, running past me as total chaos erupts. “Get the women into the tunnel!” He tosses Rogue’s master key and I grab it, dodging the tiny missiles that splinter the walls around me.
“Mercenary!” I hear my woman calling for me and I follow the sound of her voice.
It seems like time stands still in this moment as I briefly scan my surrounding and take in a deep breath to compose myself. I’ll be no good to her or this club if I let myself be fueled by pure distress. I do my best work when my blood is pumping pure adrenaline. Men are everywhere posted up underneath window seals firing back. Sandman and Pyro pass me by firing off the occasional round back at our enemy. I draw my weapon, crouch down, and stealthily begin to make my way to where I last saw Harmony. I don’t want to keep calling her name because I fear drawing attention to her might be just what these fuckers want.
The adrenaline gains speed and flows nicely through my coursing veins as I make my way to where I think she is. “Merc!” Sandman shouts over the sounds of war. Turning my head to him, he tosses me an AR-15. “It’s full-auto!” He tosses me a round of extra ammunition as he wiggles his brows. It’s in this moment I’m certain his brain isn’t functioning on all cylinders. He looks excited even. He laughs maniacally as he races past me. Continuing making my way back to the common room, I spot my girl crouched down in front of the sofa in a fetal position covering her belly protectively.
Suddenly, my inner Sandman surfaces. These motherfuckers have come for mine? They want my woman? My child? Not today, sons of bitches, and in fact, not any other day. Speeding up, I race to her side and crouch down. “Harmony, baby, I’m here.” I reach down and cover her body with mine from the flying bullets and debris. I hear footsteps fastly approaching behind me and turn around. It’s one of them and he aims and fires but misses. Simultaneously I do the same, only my bullet nails him in between the eyes and he drops. “Listen,” I turn back around and speak to Harmony. “I’m gonna shield you with my body and walk you to safety.” She nods. “On my count, ready?”
“Mercenary?” I hear the faint whisper of Harlow’s voice, but am having trouble getting a visual due to the amount of gun smoke surrounding us. Not mention my ringing ears.
“Harlow?” I hear Bane call out as he takes a shot at a man running toward us before he hits the ground. “Here. In the corner. My l
eg. I think I’ve been shot.”
I make out a figure where I’ve followed her voice to. Bane crawls over to her. “Bane?”
“Yeah,” he hollers out over his shoulder.
“Can you get her and follow us?”
“Anything, yeah! There’s blood and I can’t tell if she’s been shot or how bad it is,” his words come out frantic as I hear Harlow cry out in agony.
“Let’s go, baby,” I tell Harmony after I briefly scan the room again and lift her up. “On the move, Bane!” I warn him. Because once I get my woman on the other side of that door, they will have to take my life to get the key from me and open it back up.
Once we’ve made it to the door of the tunnel, I make sure Harmony is sheltered by my body in front of me as I open the door. “Merc!” she shouts, wanting to protest and I know it’s driven from pure fear.
“Here!” Bane announces. “She’s gonna need some help, though!”
“Harmony, we don’t have time to argue. Can you help Harlow through the tunnels?” I notice her gulp and two tears slide down her cheeks. Her eyes flicker to her friend and sister, then back to mine.
“Yes, but…”
I flip the light switch, grab Harlow with unintentional force and shove her into Harmony’s arms. A loud and ear-piercing holler of defeat can be heard and its Rogue’s. Harmony’s eyes grow large and the color from her face drains. Any previous thought that crossed my mind of helping them through these tunnels is now abandoned. Bane takes off in search of Pres. My heart hammers against the walls of my chest and I can feel myself holding back a fucking tear. But, I have to go help these men and Harmony’s father, my Pres. Her lower lip begins to quiver, and I can feel her silent beg. If I don’t do it now, I might not at all. Giving her a forceful nudge, I manage to push her and Harlow both over the threshold and I quickly shut and lock the door. The look of shock and horror on my woman’s face in that moment will forever haunt me.
* * *
Outlaw
* * *
When the door is slammed in my face, I take my hands and pound against it. “Mercenary! Don’t! Don’t you do this!” Tear after tear begins to fall until all I can taste is the saltiness on my lips. The sound of my father’s agony is still present, haunting my ears. Hearing Harlow’s squeal of anguish has me turning around and I notice that she’s no longer upright. She’s lost her footing and is now sitting on the cold, unforgiving cement floor. Worried about the extent of her injury, I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight app for extra lighting. As soon as it illuminates a small area, I lean over to see if I can tell where she’s hurt.
“It’s my thigh,” tears roll down her face while she tells me. “I felt it get pierced by something the second I became aware we were being shot at.”
“Let me see how bad it is,” I instruct her, as I kneel down. I’d rather help Harlow than stand in here and be overrun with the fear running rampant in my head. She moves to the left and I see her right leg is soaked in blood and her clothes are coated in a coppery smell. Not having any supplies handy, I do the best that I can and remove my shirt. I try to rip it, but the material is strong and isn’t giving. Needing to come up with something, I look down my body and decide my belt might just be useful. Forcefully I unbuckle it and slide it through the loops of my jeans. My hands are shaking the entire time with the adrenaline drop I’m experiencing.
“It’s okay, Harmony. I’m gonna be fine.” She places a hand over mine, comforting me. I feel like shit because I should be the one reassuring her, not the other way around. “Take your time. Count to ten and then help me get that belt turned into a tourniquet.” She closes her eyes and my heart begins to pound inside my chest. No, I can’t lose her. With the extra light I have, I notice the color draining from her face the longer she goes without aid rendered.
“I’m fine, Harlow. You’re gonna be fine. I need you to try and keep your eyes open, okay?” Her eyes flutter open and she weakly nods. “I’m just worried about getting you and me out of here,” my eyes travel back to the door when I say this. I’m praying inside that everyone on the other side of it are alive and safe—a luxury I won’t have of knowing for a while. “Let’s get you temporarily fixed until we can get Stitches to take a look at you.” When the belt is secured as tightly as I can get it, I sit down next to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder. She lays her head on it and I begin to talk about anything that comes to mind to keep her awake. I know we’re supposed to be walking our way to safety, but there’s absolutely no way Harlow can make it. And, there’s no way in hell I can physically hold her up right now. My body is stressed and weak. I’ve got my little one to think about too.
I share with her how Mercenary and I acted toward each other when we first met. I remember how much I wanted to shove my foot up his ass and throat punch him. She chuckles when I share this information. Now that I think back on it, I was a bitch, but what woman wouldn’t be after being taken away from the comfort and security of her own home? My detail that night ended up being brutally attacked by several men and had no chance of surviving his injuries. It saddens me because he could’ve been no older than nineteen years old.
The first two-hundred feet in this tunnel are soundproof, so we can’t hear what’s happening. My mind periodically drifts off and I wonder if the battle is still being waged. I need to know that Merc and my father are alive and well...that this baby still has a father and so do I.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Harlow informs me.
“Breathe in through your nose and out of your mouth,” I coach her as I do this exercise alongside her. There is no bathroom in this section of the tunnel nor is there one close by for her to expel the contents of her stomach. I’m not even sure if the tunnels hold one, or not. Considering a man, my father, designed this—something tells me it doesn’t. With me being pregnant, I know that there’s no way I can be trapped down here with her vomiting and me not start to myself.
* * *
Mercenary
* * *
Leaving her on the other side of that door is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And, I’ve done a lot of unspeakable acts against other humans that would have me deemed as a psychopath by society.
“Over here, Merc!” Stone calls out. “We’ve got two approaching from the side.”
My only thought besides Harmony is checking on Pres. The sound of flying bullets has slowed down some and has me wondering if we’ve about taken all of them out, or if it’s the other way around. So much for acting offensively. Ducking down, I run over to where Stone is. My eyes look behind me where I heard Rogue’s cry earlier. The sound of a bullet whizzing by too close to my head for comfort catches my attention—pulling me back to the present moment. Two men are quickly approaching the clubhouse, taking shelter occasionally with any bike or tree in sight. Raising my weapon, I notice Stone doing the same from my peripheral. “Left,” I call out, claiming my target as I lock him in the scope.
“Right,” Stone answers back, confirming he heard me.
They move a few feet each time, almost rhythmically. About once every ten seconds they move in as they fire shots. Mentally, I count down. As expected, my target steps out and proceeds closer to us and I train my scope between his eyes and squeeze the trigger. Multiple bullets leave my gun at once and I watch as his brain matter and skull fly backward as he drops. “I’m hit!” Edge calls out from somewhere behind us. Fuck!
“Shit! I missed!” Stone hollers out. “Die, motherfucker!” he fires off again recklessly.
Aiming my rifle, it takes two squeezes of my trigger and I open up the fucker’s torso, exposing his stomach and intestines as they fall when he does. “You got it from here?” I ask Stone, needing his reassurance because I’ve got to get to Rogue. But now, I’ve got to check on Edge, too.
“Yeah, yeah. Go help Edge!” He waves me in another direction.
“These motherfuckers are everywhere!” I shout as I approach Edge and kneel down to assess his wound.
“It’s my calf muscle! Fuck!” Edge groans out in pain.
“We need to stop the bleeding, first. Can you stand at all?” I want to get him behind the bar for now as shelter since he’s wounded.
“Help me up?” he asks, extending his hand and I grab his arm, laying it around the back of my neck.
“Lean on me for support,” I tell him as we begin to make our way toward the bar. Momentarily I’m both blinded and deafened as he fires off a shot nearly right in front of my face. Looking back up, I realize he just saved my life. He just dropped this motherfucker that somehow made it past Stone. Christ that fucker needs some practicing shooting. “Thanks,” I tell Edge once I get him to the safety and shelter the bar has to offer. “I was so focused on helping you and looking down at your leg, I never saw him.”
“You’re family. It’s what we do. Now go check on Rogue. It’s where I was headed when this stray pierced my flesh.” He rips a piece of his shirt off and ties it around the bottom of his leg after rolling his pant leg up.
I nod before I cautiously make my way toward the back of the clubhouse where I last heard Rogue. It’s only been about five minutes in real time but feels like hours have passed and I haven’t heard him since. Before I can make it back to where I heard him, Phantom comes running up and I hear the sound of a motorcycle fire up outside. “It’s Rogue. He’s on a suicide mission. I think we’ve got them all but Marcum and another he took off with. Let’s go! Let’s go, motherfuckers!” he bellows out loudly from deep in his lungs.
Mercenary and His Outlaw Page 13